


Achievement Unlocked: [A Father's Wrath]

by Lazersinnit



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Antarctic Empire, BAMF Philza, Dadza, Gen, Happy Ending, Platonic Relationships, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Sleepy Bois Inc-centric, Temporary Character Death, all four of them are family your honour, but then its fine i swear, despite this i may have teared up when writing this, got the case of the aul full eyes, no beta we die like wibur soot in the dsmp, no romantic relationships, only the bad guys actually die in this i swear, philza centric, philza is the angel of death, sbi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29812983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazersinnit/pseuds/Lazersinnit
Summary: Phil had been called many things during his life. He had more titles than he knew what to do with by virtue of his position as the King of Antarctica.(He didn’t care much for most of them, but there was always one title that he treasured more than anything. His title of “dad”.)But before he had found his family, before he had been elevated to the position of King he had been given a title by the people. A title that he had thought he had set down and buried with his past. A title that was being forced upon him once again.They had forced his hand and so the God of Death spread his wings once more.OrPhil finds the supposed dead bodies of his sons on the battlefield and goes full sicko mode on the culprits.
Relationships: Technoblade & Phil Watson, Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 18
Kudos: 387





	Achievement Unlocked: [A Father's Wrath]

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer
> 
> If anyone in the fic mentions that they are uncomfortable with this sort of thing this will be taken down ofc. Saying that please do not send this to any of the content creators. This fic is for the fandom. I've seen a lot of people mentioning fics in donos and stuff and that is totally not cool, on both the writers and the CCs behalf.

The first and only warning that they got was the communicators going silent. 

Phil was in the Command tent when he was delivered the news. His head jumped up from the maps he was perusing as a harried looking woman ran into the tent without warning. She stood there breathing heavily for a moment, catching her breath as Phil stood up straight before he addressed her.

“Whoa, deep breaths there.” She caught her breath and looked up at him with frantic eyes, Phil braced himself. “What have you got for me?”

“They’ve gone silent sir. The communicators have all gone silent.” Phil took a moment to digest that piece of information before he continued.

“All of them?” She nodded and with that confirmation Phil felt his stomach drop. He pulled out his own private communicator and tried to call one of the few people he had programmed in but, nothing. No reply. They always answered, if not in call by a message. He really did not like where his thoughts were being led by this.

He strode past her to the main communications hub, holding back his thoughts by sheer force of will. A full blackout of communication was unprecedented, especially through Phil’s own communicator. In the hub he found that while they couldn’t get in contact with anyone on the front line they could still get in contact with people currently in the camp. That meant that either all of the communicators out on the front line were broken or that every person was somehow incapacitated in some way. His hands gripped the table tight as he worried at the implications.

They had warriors out on the front line and the communicators were their lifeline, passing news of how each battle engagement was going, whether they needed reinforcements, whether they won. Phil’s son’s were all on the front line and you bet he made sure that they had access to a communicator at all times. But what use was instant communication when no one responded he thought while looking down at his own communicator.

But he had hope, they were strong, they’d be okay. 

They had to be okay.

* * *

He couldn’t shake the dread.

He had to find out what had happened to his people, his sons. No one just dropped off the map like that, especially a whole army! He knew that his officers would want to wait for at least a preliminary search team to scout ahead but he would be faster, so he set off with his own communicator in hand and sword by his side, his wings stretching wide against the clear night's sky.

He flew as fast as he could, checking the map in his hands against the wrecked countryside below with a heavy heart. He never wanted any of this to happen, he just wanted his people safe.

He was nearing the last known location of the front when his wings shuddered in shock, dropping him a few feet. He thought that the ruined countryside was the worst of it but as he landed softly on shaky feet he felt overwhelmed by the scene in front of him.

Phil had seen injuries before, of course he had- they were in the middle of a war and not the first one he had taken part in either- but they were usually caused in the middle of a mess of chaos and confusion, when you have a stubborn, desperate hold on your weapon as you fight to stay alive, but this- this he hadn’t seen in quite some time. He’d like to say he had forgotten it, but he wasn’t that lucky.

It was silent. 

It was silent and there were bodies littering the ground in front of him.

He walked solemnly up to the dark blues and greys of his people along with the brown of the enemy, hardly breathing as his thoughts raced. Everyone was down, not a single person left standing.

Where were his kids?

His breathing was loud in his ears as he took a cautious step forward, feeling like a spell had been cast and that a single movement could break it. He moved forward on autopilot, like he was a back passenger in his own body as he felt himself kneel down to check a couple of people's pulse’s only to find nothing. As he checked more and more people he noticed that they didn’t seem to have any life threatening injuries that could have caused them all to fall as they did. It looked like they all just spontaneously… died.

He absently called back to base camp to relay this information and how everyone he had checked had no pulse. He couldn’t find his sons.

“-yes, no life threatening injuries as far as I can see. Yes, both sides are down. We need people here to get our people back. As of this moment I don’t… I don’t…” Phil trailed off as he spotted a bright patch of colour among the dirty blue and dark brown of the uniforms. 

No… please no.

His hand dropped, still holding tight to his communicator. He could hear the muffled voices still coming through but couldn’t focus on them as he stumbled closer to the pink hair in the distance. They always stuck together, pink hair meant there was a high chance they were all there. He had been holding out on his last hope, holding it together this whole time. No, it couldn’t be, right? But who else would have the confidence to go out in a war with bright pink hair, who else would have the skills to back up that confidence? 

His eyes, zeroed in on the pink, didn’t see what he had stepped on until he heard the crunch under his feet. He stepped back in a daze to look numbly down to see a pair of glasses lay crushed under his foot, a very familiar pair of glasses. He picked them up as a broken “Wilbur?” escaped from his mouth. He stumbled on.

He dropped to his knees when he found him, found them, because of course they were together. Of course. Phil had taught them well. They were together. 

They were together and they were dead.

Technoblade and Wilbur fell flanking Tommy, protective big brothers to the very end. Tommy always hated it when they coddled him. Phil’s hand shook as he reached out to do what he had done for countless others since he arrived, he brushed aside the pink hair as he checked for a pulse. His hope died. He checked Wilbur’s pulse. His hope died. He could barely see his reaching hand through his tears as he brushed aside the dirty blond hair of Tommy and felt his hope die a third final death along with any pulse that may have existed. 

A faint throbbing filtered through his other hand so he looked down despondent. The remains of Wilbur’s glasses had cut his hand, the blood dripping down in time with his own beating heart. Unlike his sons'. His sons… 

A great, gaping hole opened up inside of him as everything rushed to his head at once. Tears fell, joining the blood on the ground as he dropped the glasses to the dirt to reach out with his arms to encompass all three of them, pulling them to his chest like when they were kids as he let out a guttural wail.

His sons, his boys… 

They were gone.

* * *

The next while was a blur to Phil. He had sent his coordinates to Base Camp via the communicator earlier so when they came in droves to bring back the bodies he was not surprised. He didn’t help them. He couldn’t take his eyes off of his three boys, he was not leaving them. He couldn’t leave them.

The next fully aware moment he had he was back in his tent, the three of them laid down in the middle of the room on makeshift beds. He collapsed on a chair next to them, staring down at their closed eyes as he heard a rustle at the entrance of the tent.

“Commander.” Phil said nothing. “I’m sorry to interrupt but we have to figure out our next move.” That rustled a bit of life back into his body.

“Our next move.” He repeated, no inflection, a hardened expression.

“Our response to this attack.” This attack. _Attack._ That’s what this was wasn’t it. A battle is one thing but this was obviously subterfuge of some kind. Phil appreciated a certain amount of deception, he was a man of battle after all, but now? At the cost of his son's lives? Unacceptable. The more he thought, the more grief and rage tangled together, rising up under his skin. _Unacceptable._

But what was he going to do about it? The answer was obvious to Phil.

“I’m going in.” The officer was shocked. Perhaps not so obvious to them then.

“But sir, you haven’t been on the field in-” Phil turns his piercing stare on them. 

“...Yes sir.” They conceded before continuing, ”When are you planning this next engagement?” 

“Tonight.” 

“Tonight? That's way too sudden! We have no information, a severe lack of manpower- We don’t even have a commanding field officer!” Phil put his hand up and they grew silent as they realised who they had obliquely mentioned. 

“I’ll be going alone.” 

“Alone?” 

“Of course.”

“No disrespect sir, but will you be enough?” Phil glanced up, a look that would be amused in any other circumstance. 

“You know- knew- my son Technoblade, his reputation, his skill, yes?” They nodded, wary. Phil continued with a heavy heart, “Who did you think taught him?”

Silence embraced the room.

“...We’ll get everything ready for you.” Phil nodded and turned back to his sons. 

* * *

Philza walked down onto the dirt, leaving a path of blood that dripped from the blade of his sword. He slowly strode towards what seemed to be the main tent at the compound that he had flown to, determined. He carelessly sliced the entrance flap to the tent down with a swift motion before he walked inside.

A scruffy man looked up in surprise at his entrance, standing up in alarm as he saw the sword gripped in his hand.

“You! How did you get past the guards?”

“This war is over.”

“... What are you saying- GUARDS!” The man called for help only to realise that no one was coming to help him.

“There is no one who can help you.” Philza stared blankly at the man across the room from him. This man was the one that caused all of his heartache, all the problems, all the death? He didn’t look like much.

“What do you want?” The man asked with false bravado.

“I want to know how.” Philza asked.

“That’s a very vague question.”

“How did you take out the army?” Despite the man’s obvious nervousness a smarmy smile grew on his face. 

“Oh, did you like that! One of my finer ideas.” Philza’s eyes narrowed. “A nice little concoction that spread through the air and poisoned them all.” 

“Even your own men.” The man shrugged callously. 

“Sacrifices have to be made, especially if it wins me the war.”

“... I agree.” Philza whispered. The man seemed to only then notice the unnatural silence from the camp. Philza had noticed the standard noise cancelling enchantments sewn into the fabric of the tent but with the tent ripped open they shouldn’t have been effective anymore. But there was still no sound.

“... What did you do?” The man sputtered out.

“You said it yourself, sacrifices have to be made.”

“What did you _do_!?”

“I returned the favor.” The man rushed to the door to see the mess that Phil had left behind. A bloodbath, red soaked ground, fire running rampant, quickly eating the other tents. The man collapsed to the ground.

“How did you- Who are you working with? What do you want?” Philza stood there emotionless as the man looked up at Philza from his prone position on the ground, eyes finally taking in the blood dripping from his clothes, his sword, his wings.

  
  


“Who are you…?” He whispered.

“Did you not do your research?” Philza asked blithely, walking slowly towards the man who fell back, trying to scramble away in vain. Philza crouched so that he was staring into the man's wide, terrified eyes before he continued.

“Do you not know who you went to war with?” He placed his blood soaked hands on either side of the petrified man’s face, “Well, I’m not going to tell you now. Die disappointed.” 

And Philza snapped his neck.

* * *

Before Phil became King, before he became a father, he had a reputation. 

It had calmed down once he settled down in his kingdom, after he found his boys, but it was always there lingering in the back of the people’s minds. Whispers of before he was King, when he wandered the lands defending the innocent people, no matter the cost. The stories spread from both sides; To some he was seen as a Guardian Angel, to others he was branded as a God of Death.

Once he established his kingdom, safe from outside forces, once he found his kids and raised them, their laughter filling the halls, he settled. No longer needing to keep up his relentless drive to protect, he could be… Phil. But now that past was back and he didn’t have his family to be himself for.

He was just Phil.

And he was alone.

* * *

Phil landed haphazardly back at base camp and was almost immediately swept into the rush of people running back and forth. He went with the flow, too tired to resist, until he saw the command tent, deciding that he might as well check in there. He definitely did not want to venture back to his personal tent and what awaited him there. 

He didn’t want to face reality again so soon.

He trailed into the room, head low as he made his way over to his head officer who was talking frantically to a few people.

“-potions, as many as you can!” Phil, if he was not as emotionally drained as he was, would have dropped lower in mood at this implication that there were even more casualties since he had left. The other people rushed out past Phil and as they did he made eye contact with the officer who jumped to attention.

“At ease.” Phil said with a deadened voice.

“You’re back safe.” They said with palpable relief, “That’s great news!”

“Didn’t think I could take them?” Phil fell back into his usual teasing mode automatically, even with his unenthused tone.

“Didn’t know if you wanted to come back.” Phil didn’t know what to say to that for a moment, slumping over slightly in exhaustion before he changed the subject.

“I assume that you have whatever happened all under control and that you can brief me in the morning? You’ll understand if I’m not quite feeling able to continue at the moment.” The officer looked guilty for a split second before they brightened up considerably before they replied.

“I do have one thing I need to break to you- It’s something good! Brilliant even! Maybe you’ll need to sit down actually-”

“I don’t have the patience or the ability to stay awake for much longer, just tell me.”

“Your sons are alive.” After those four words entered his brain all Phil heard was static even as he could hazily see the officer still speaking. 

What?

He stood up straight to his full height, a burst of fury racing through his veins as he gripped the table between him and his officer. His sons were dead. The table cracked under the force, breaking the officer’s train of speech and as they tapered off a wave of loss flew through Phil as he replied coldly.

“They’re dead. I confirmed it myself.”

“It was the result of a potion, a new concoction. Made their heartbeats slow to an unprecedented low rate. Probably meant to stop them but it was badly made.” Phil felt a traitorous hope start to rise in his chest but he squashed it down harshly. He had to see it with his own eyes. He couldn’t get his hopes up only for them to crash and burn. 

He didn’t think that he could survive that.

“Where are they?”

“In your tent. Go, I’ll look after everything.” Phil gave their shoulder a squeeze of thanks with a shaky hand as he passed them on his way out.

The second he left the tent he ran. He ran past all the people bustling around, looking after the people that had been injured by this attack he assumed. He would almost feel bad that he wasn’t supervising the recovery of all of his soldiers but Phil knew himself. He needed to check, he needed to know if what the commander said was true. The journey to his tent was simultaneously the shortest and the longest journey that he had ever taken but as he reached the entrance he grabbed the door covering and almost ripped it open in his haste.

Technoblade had swiftly stumbled to his feet at the noise and movement of someone unexpectedly storming into the tent to stand in front of his brothers who sat on the bed behind him, sword held aloft. Phil just stared at them all, blinking rapidly as his eyes welled up.

Technoblade dropped his sword arm but stayed standing at the realisation that it was Phil.

“Dad.” He said shakily but Phil couldn’t get his throat to loosen to reply. He stumbled forward towards their shocked still figures and fell to his knees. He pulled them all close to his chest in a desperate mirror of his earlier actions on the battlefield, this time feeling their very much alive heartbeats through contact. He didn’t realise that he was muttering under his breath until Wilbur was answering back.

“We’re all alive, we’re all okay. We’re okay Dad, look at us.” Phil stopped his chanting of ‘You’re alive” to take in their faces with a clearer mind.

“You’re here.” he breathed out with soft exultation.

“We’re here.” Wilbur confirmed before a moment of silence settled as Phil just took them all in.

“What the fuck happened to your clothes?! Is that blood- Are you bleeding?!” Tommy exclaimed loudly. Phil looked down at his clothes, only now noticing that his dark green robes were darker than usual, soaked through with blood as they were. He waved Tommy’s concerns off.

“Don’t worry, it’s not my blood.” He could see his three boys exchanged worried looks with each other over his head.

“... Where did it come from then?” Tommy asked timidly. Phil closed his eyes before he spoke.

“I found you all.” This statement was met with confused silence.

“Da-”

“I found you all, and you were dead. What was I supposed to do?” His voice broke on the last sentence as his hands crept up to cover his face.

“Dad,” Technoblade kneels down, gently avoiding the small pool of blood from Phil’s robes. Phil had been studiously avoiding thinking about that. “Where were you, what happened?” Phil steeled his emotions before he was able to recover.

“You don’t have to worry about the war anymore, it’s over.”

“Is that where you were? Organising for us to retreat?” Wilbur chimed in.

“No, no retreat. We won. I ensured it.”

“You-” Wilbur looks down at Phil’s red drenched clothes and swallows thickly. “Just you?” Phil looked up at him straight in the eyes but he couldn’t see past the image he had burned into his head, the three of them dead before his eyes.

“I thought they killed you all, I didn’t need any more motivation to end this war as fast as possible.” He continued under his breath, “They didn’t deserve my mercy.” He could tell by the tightening of Wilbur’s arms around him that he had heard that last remark but Phil couldn’t bring himself to be bothered by that, still being overcome by the overwhelming relief that his boys were alive.

He looked up to see his boys sharing another look overhead.

“Get up guys, it can’t be good to sit on the cold ground like that.” Technoblade’s no nonsense tone leaving no room for arguments.

Phil got shakily to his feet, shrugging off his robe as he did before continuing to find a change of clothes. He changed and collapsed onto his bed, keeping an eye on his boys all the while, not willing to have them leave his sight for one second lest it all be a mirage. 

“...You said that the war is over?” Tommy sat next to Phil’s bed.

“Yeah.” Phil replied.

“Does that mean we can go home?” There was a longing note in Tommy’s voice as he asked. Phil felt a stab of regret flow through him. He kept them away from home too long, they were so young to be out on the battlefield. He could see Technoblade and Wilbur pause in their getting ready for bed to listen for his answer.

“Of course, we’ll go home together.” And with that reassurance Tommy gave a small, but sincere smile as he rose to get himself ready for bed. Phil watched him and his brothers almost waltz around each other in the familiar ritual of the night, the usual bickering rising and falling like the tide. Watching them live and breathe and banter made Phil feel a pang in his heart. 

He could have lost this so easily.

But they were here, they were alive. They would travel back home, perhaps not immediately as Phil was still King despite him shrugging his duties for the night. But the war was over for now.

He knew that other kingdoms would rise in an effort to fill the power vacuum left behind by the people that Phil had taken out but they could plan for that, all of them together. And Phil knew that after this scare he would be taking a more active role from the get go. It seemed that the other kingdoms had forgotten who he was and what he could do. He mightn’t be particularly fond of the monikers given to him but for his sons he would embrace them. He would fight a thousand gods to keep them safe and it was time the rest of the world knew that too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this! I hope you enjoyed it! <3
> 
> The working title for this fic was Phil goes full sicko mode, and the initial idea that I had was "Philza find the “dead” bodies of Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy and goes absolutely batshit crazy with grief. Or people kidnap them and he goes full sicko mode. What can I say, I'm a simple women. I see family man, I want to see him go berserk at the thought of losing his family. *shrugs*
> 
> I was thinking about what Phil and chat always says when the 420 sub video is played on twitch and they lose like 5k viewers. They always chant PURGE THE WEAK, and I'm like what a terrifying phrase out of context lol, like between blood for the blood god and purge the weak they got some terrifying vibes all round.
> 
> Went fast and loose with the military ranks fellas
> 
> **Deleted scenes:**
> 
> **Scene 1:**
>
>> It was silent.
>> 
>> Silence on the battle field was eerie. Silence appeared when something terrible had happened. 
>> 
>> Silence was dangerous but Phil was even more so.
> 
> **Scene 2:**
>
>> "You couldn’t defeat us in combat so had to go the Bio-warfare route." Said Phil in disgust.
>> 
>> "All is fair in love and war." The man replied with a smarmy grin.
>> 
>> "I was hoping you’d say that." Phil intoned as he stalked closer, sword in his clenched hand. "Because I don't plan to be fair."


End file.
